


Runaway

by kingseijuro



Series: Secret Santas 2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Assassin Keith (Voltron), Assassination, Blood and Gore, Doctor Shiro (Voltron), Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, Police
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 18:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingseijuro/pseuds/kingseijuro
Summary: Keith Kogane is a popular assassin worldwide, yet to be caught. One day he comes home injured after a victim fought back.But lucky for him, he just so happens to be married to a doctor in training, Takashi Shirogane.





	Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> This is soooooo incredibly late, but this is a Secret Santa for @helahound on Twitter! Merry late Christmas! ☆

The gust of wind that engulfed Keith chilled the wet wounds covering his body as he threw the front door open. The piece of wood slammed against the wall connected to the doorframe and ricocheted back, catching Keith's ankle as he limped away and it pulled him to the ground with a loud thud. A painful grunt slipped past his clenched teeth. 

 

“Keith!” he heard someone yell. He was dizzy, vision blurring in and out of focus, as his head swayed. His mind was blank, confused as he tried to think of who would be in his house. 

 

Shiro. 

 

That's right. Shiro, his husband. How could he forget? 

 

“S-Shiro…” Keith choked out. He heard the door close and the click of the deadbolt locking before he was lifted into a warm pair of arms. His head limply laid against the warm chest as he listened to the rapid beat of Shiro's heart. 

 

“Keith…” Shiro breathed out, carefully bringing him to the bathroom. Things started to get more clear, less fuzzy as he was sat on the cold toilet seat. He winced as the edge of the porcelain dug into a wound on the back of his thigh. 

 

“What happened?” Shiro asked, and Keith’s head swayed. “Keith, Keith! Stay awake. Listen to me.” Shiro's hands cupped Keith's cheeks firmly, keeping his head still as he blinked. He slowly looked at Shiro. “That's it… Good. Now tell me, What happened?”

 

“V-Victim… Fought back,” Keith choked out as he leaned his head back against the steel cabinet bolted to the top of the toilet. It was cold, the direct contact to his skull helping his mind clear up a little quicker. “He was good.”

 

Shiro's hands left Keith's cheeks and he soon heard running water next to him, but he couldn't pull his attention away from the cement bumps on the ceiling to look. 

 

“Is he still alive?”

 

“No.”

 

Keith heard Shiro sigh in relief. “Good.”

 

Keith felt a warm rag on his cheek, soothing circles being rubbed onto the plump flesh. Concerned eyes trained on his, but he refused to look. 

 

He was embarrassed. 

 

“You're lucky I'm a medic,” Shiro joked, a half laugh tumbling past his lips. 

 

Keith huffed. “Yeah.”

 

“F-Fuck…” Keith sighed, eyebrows curling and eyes clenching closed in pain as Shiro touched a wound on his shoulder. It was deep, collar bones exposed and painted red. 

 

“You need stitches.” Shiro chewed on his bottom lip. “This man was good.”

 

“No shit,” Keith hissed between his teeth. Gravity was starting to do its job, pulling the flesh apart more as it tried to fall down. The sound of tearing flesh filled the bathroom as Keith shook in pain, quickly reaching up with his right hand, gripped his left shoulder to keep it up. 

 

He finally looked up at Shiro, and his heart broke. Tears bubbled in the corner of the taller man's eyes, as he let out a shuddered breath. 

 

“He's lucky he's dead,” Shiro said under his breath as Keith lifted his head off the cabinet, Shiro reaching over him carefully and opening the metal doors. “How many times did he get you?”

 

“Four times.”

 

“And are all of the wounds that deep?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, and Shiro nodded. He grabbed supplies from the cabinet then closed the doors so Keith could lean his head on them again. Shiro wasn't hiding his emotions, they were splayed clearly on his face, and that almost hurt Keith more than when Shiro hid them. He was hurt, and he hated seeing his husband like that. 

 

Once Keith leaned his head on the cold metal again, he felt his shirt peeling off of him. He winced as the sweat drenched fabric tugged at his wounds. 

 

He closed his eyes tightly before he whined, Shiro tugging at another wound. Dried blood had mended fabric and flesh together. 

 

“Just pull it off, quick!” Keith growled, clenchng his teeth tightly after. 

 

The pull was excruciating, but Shiro made it quick. 

 

Keith bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood, holding in his scream. 

 

“Sorry,” Shiro spoke quickly in a hushed breath. 

 

“It's okay.” Keith closed his eyes for a moment as he took a couple deep breaths that burned the column of his throat. He soon felt a warm, damp rag gently rubbing at the wound on his shoulder. It caused him to open his eyes again as he slowly looked at Shiro, watching all of his movements like they were the last he was going to see. 

 

He wasn't going to die, he knew that. But he always treated every minute like his last. 

 

"What was his name?" Shiro asked, rinsing the bloodied rag in the sink. The high water pressure pushed the thick syrup off and into the sink, staining the white porcelain more than it already was. Water ran through the rag and came out a tint of red on the other side. 

 

"James," Keith rasped. "James Griffin." 

 

“Huh,” Shiro huffed. 

 

Keith tilted his head at that. “You know him?”

 

“I probably know less than you do. He's that famous pilot from the Garrison.” Shiro shrugged. “Why’d you do it?”

 

Keith knew he wasn't asking _why_ and more so asking who, and what. “He was fucking with the wrong people, and someone wanted him dead.”

 

“Anonymous as always?” Shiro gently wiped at another wound.

 

Keith winced once the rough fabric dragged along the tender flesh. “Yep.”

 

“Well, you're gonna need stitches here too,” Shiro sighed as he took a step back for a moment.

 

Keith managed to curl his numb lips into a smirk. “Well, good thing I'm married to a doctor.”

 

“I don't have my medical degree, not—”

 

“Dr. Shirogane~” Keith grinned, and it caused Shiro to groan as he gently flicked the assassin’s forehead. 

 

“You're lucky you're cute,” Shiro sighed, eventually smiling softly before leaving the room to get more supplies. Keith managed a small chuckle before quickly raising his arm to his mouth and coughing into the closed fist. 

 

When he pulled his hand away, he saw blood, painting the middle of his palm. “Huh…” he huffed. 

 

“Oh, shit.” Keith was quick to look up when he heard Shiro's concerned voice. “You're gonna need blood.”

 

“I'll be fine,” Keith grimaced out, coughing into his fist again. 

 

“Some of the wounds have already gotten infected, Keith, you need it.” Shiro moved over to him, and Keith weakly looked into his eyes. “We need to go to the hospital.”

 

Keith looked at Shiro like he had just said the impossible. Well, he did. “You know I can't do that.”

 

“We'll have to lie, say you got attacked. Your legal records aren't connected to your assassin persona anyways.” Shiro was starting to panic. 

 

“Shiro,”

 

“Keith!” Shiro breathed heavily as he yelled, and Keith looked down at the ground. The once white tile was a mess, stained years ago and only getting more grimy as time went on. Fresh blood smeared the tile and mixed with the mud that was stuck to Keith's boots. 

 

“You might never see me again.” Keith looked up at Shiro again. 

 

“I'd rather never see you again and you be alive, than have you die.” Shiro's lip quivered. He was holding back his tears, and the sight of his husband broke Keith. 

 

“They won't help once they know who I am.”

 

Shiro's jaw clenched. “We won't know until we try.”

 

“You could be sent to prison as well, or worse, sentenced to death along with me,” Keith sighed. “Harboring a murderer.”

 

“Harboring my _husband._ ” Shiro raised his voice, but not in a threatening tone. “Sickness and in health, remember?”

 

Keith looked away at that. “Shiro, I can't.”

 

Shiro sighed, giving up for the time being. “Let me get you stitched up then.”

 

———

 

Keith was stubborn, Shiro knew that from day one. But deep down he couldn't help but feel frustrated with the man. He didn't have any blood lying around in his office down the hall, so the best he could do were stitch and clean Keith's wounds, and give him an IV with antibiotics. 

 

“Shiro,” Keith waited until his husband looked down at him before he spoke again. “You don't have to worry about me.”

 

Shiro felt like all he was doing was sighing the past few hours. “You know I'll always worry.”

 

Shiro concentrated on Keith's eyes as he spoke, still full of color and light. It gave him a false sense of security that just _maybe_ he would be okay without more blood. He couldn't look at his husband's skin, it too pale, dark circles curled around his eyes. Keith's bangs were pulled back with a thick red hair clip, red ponytail matching as it pulled up the longer strands of the thick mane. The sides of his bangs were still sweat slicked to his jaw, and Shiro was half tempted to grab a headband to get those away too. 

 

It wasn't that long before he was weaving the last stitch into a wound on Keith's leg. It was painful even to watch as Keith gritted his teeth. He was used to it now, but it still hurt. 

 

Keith was stripped down to nothing but his boxers so Shiro could make sure he attended to every wound hours ago. The room was chilly, Keith shivering despite his forehead being slicked with sweat and burning hot. His thighs pressed against the ceramic toilet seat, the porcelain without a doubt had made an indent in the plump flesh. 

 

Shiro hated seeing Keith like this. Sometimes he wished Keith would stop what he was doing. But deep down, he couldn't do that. It was Keith's life, his profession, and who would he be to say Keith couldn't do it? 

 

Did Keith enjoy it, though? Shiro still hadn't figured that one out. 

 

Shiro chewed on the inside of his lip at the thought as he cut the access string and tied the end. “I'm done,” he sighed in relief. 

 

Keith sighed in relief as well, and he picked his head up from its previous position leaned against the metal cabinet. “Thanks,” he smiled softly as he looked up at his husband. 

 

Shiro's lips cracked into a slight smile before falling back to a neutral line. “Let's get you in bed, I can give you an IV for the infection.”

 

Keith groaned at that. He hated all of this, and Shiro knew that. But it had to be done. 

 

“You're the worst patient ever,” Shiro joked as he gently picked Keith up bridal style. The smaller man instinctively laid his head on Shiro's chest and it warmed his heart. He leaned his head down and planted a gentle kiss on the top of Keith's head, leaving his lips there for a moment. 

 

“I love you, Keith,” Shiro spoke once he pulled his lips away. 

 

“I love you too, Takashi,” Keith sighed that special name, and it caused Shiro's lips to finally curl into a full smile. He only said it during intimate moments, and it always made him so happy. Keith's voice was muffled by the fabric on Shiro's chest as he felt a nose nuzzle into his pecs. 

 

Shiro carried Keith out of the bathroom and down the hall to their bedroom, laying him on the king-sized bed that sat perfectly centered against the wall. There were two small tables that sat on both sides of the bed, both of them secretly held a knife for security. 

 

One thing was for certain, Shiro had never been safer than he was while living with an assassin. He was never hurt, never in danger. One sense of danger and Keith was on its tail to end it immediately. 

 

But he would rather be in danger than have Keith hurt. 

 

Shiro flashed Keith a small, worried smile before making it out of their room and down the hall to his office. He grabbed the metal doorknob and twisted his wrist, pulling the door towards him with a quick step back. He rushed over to his storage and gathered the supplies needed for an IV. 

 

Stand, needle, tube, bag, medicine. Check. 

 

———

 

It wasn't long before Keith heard someone walk into the room and he snapped his eyes open on instinct. He knew it was just Shiro, and he should relax, but the reaction was so far etched into his brain that he couldn't stop it. 

 

It's for safety, Keith tried to say. But really it was just anxiety. Shiro said it might be PTSD.

 

Keith sighed once he saw Shiro and relaxed into the sheets, head sinking back into the soft pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. He tried not to concentrate on the needle entering his vein as he mentally counted the gray cement bumps above him. 

 

“It's going to burn for a second,” Shiro said as Keith heard the swishing of liquid in a bag, and the sound of two metal hooks colliding with a clink. 

 

“I know.”

 

Soon enough, Keith felt the liquid enter his vein and a hiss squeezed past his clenched teeth in reaction to the burning sensation. 

 

“Sorry,” Shiro was quick to say. 

 

Keith looked up at Shiro with a small, reassuring smile. “Don't be.”

 

Shiro sighed, messing with the tubes a bit before moving to the bed and sitting at the foot of it. He looked stressed, worried maybe, possibly contemplating something. It was hard to tell as Keith's vision blurred in and out. Keith grunted from the sudden lightheadedness, and Shiro was quick to get up and rush to his side, crouching to his level. 

 

“Are you okay?” Shiro's words came out in a rushed breath. 

 

“Yeah. Just lightheaded,” Keith groaned as he raised his free arm to cup his forehead in his palm, thankfully no longer sweating.

 

“I still think—”

 

“No, Shiro.”

 

Shiro sighed at that before standing, taking a few steps away and he started to pace by the side of the bed. “I care about you.”

 

“I know you do,” worry rode in Keith's tone as he spoke. “Shiro, you need to relax. It'll be okay.”

 

Shiro took a deep breath before moving over to Keith. “I'm sorry.” his eyebrows furrowed in worry as his eyes shined in a thin coat of what Keith assumed to be tears. 

 

“What—”

 

———

 

Keith woke up with a dull pain in the front of his head, more clothes than he remembered wearing, and the sound of a steady beep. He opened his eyes to a brighter light than their bedroom, and immediately raised his arms to shield his eyes. He felt the snag of something sharp in one arm, and lowered it, keeping the other in front of his eyes. 

 

He quickly laid that arm on his forehead. He felt weak, completely exhausted. If he wasn't lying down, he would have without a doubt fallen over. 

 

He took note of the much less comfortable mattress underneath him than his at home, the beeps, the odd fabric covering his torso down to his legs. 

 

He was in the hospital. 

 

Keith groaned at the realization. “God dammit Shiro…” he muttered under his breath. 

 

“I had to.” Keith heard someone say. He quickly recognized the voice as Shiro's, and slowly blinked his eyes open. He let them adjust to the harsh lighting and lowered his arm in the process. 

 

He looked around until he found Shiro sitting on a chair in the corner of the hospital room. His elbows made indents in his thighs as he leaned forward, chin resting on his connected fingers. 

 

“What did you do?”

 

“Anesthesia.”

 

“Thanks,” Keith groaned. 

 

Shiro smirked, a joking glint shining in his eyes. “Anytime.”

 

Keith didn't have the energy to even think about aggression towards that statement. He wanted to grab the pillow underneath his head and throw it at Shiro, but instead opted for leaning his head further into the cushion letting his eyes close. 

 

“Do I need surgery?”

 

“You're being more cooperative than I thought,” Shiro had the nerve to chuckle. Keith was beyond angry at his husband. He understood why Shiro did what he did, but he still didn't like it. He was still upset that Shiro drugged him without his consent. 

 

Even if it was for his own good. What now? He was sure he was going to be caught. 

 

His happy home life would be over. 

 

Not that he deserved it. Keith knew better than to believe that he deserved a happy life, but that didn't mean he didn't want it. 

 

 _And anything with Shiro meant a happy life._  

 

Keith sighed as he looked at Shiro. “Just tell me.”

 

“You didn't. You just needed blood.” Shiro got up, hesitantly walking over to Keith's hospital bed. “You wouldn't have survived, Keith. I had—”

 

“I know,” Keith interrupted, a harshness to his tone; and he hated the taste of it. 

 

Shiro looked down, stilling in his steps halfway to the bed. “I'm sorry.”

 

It took a moment for Keith to finally look up at Shiro. “Kiss me.”

 

“Wh— Keith, I thought you were mad at me?”

 

“Just kiss me dammit!” Keith raised his voice, the steady beep of the heart rate monitor speeding up next to him. “This may be the last time I see you.”

 

Shiro let out a breath that shuddered in his ribcage to the point where Keith could see the spasm. He gently cupped both of Keith's cheeks in his hands, leaning down and pushing their lips together softly. Keith could taste the salty tears that soon fell freely down Shiro's cheeks. He deepened the kiss as the plump skin of his lips became heated, planting his palms on Shiro's shoulders and giving him a small nudge. Their lips separated with a pop and suddenly Keith missed the warmth of Shiro's lips, his own lips suddenly felt cold and bare. 

 

Keith sighed blissfully. “Thanks.”

 

“That won't be the last time.” 

 

“Shiro, they're going to find out. You know it.”

 

“They won't,” Shiro said, determined. 

 

Keith sighed at that. “Whatever you say.” 

 

“They aren't taking you away from me, Keith,” confidence ran through Shiro's tone. 

 

Keith gave Shiro a sad smile before staring back up at the ceiling again. His eyelids started to get heavy, and he let them fall shut into darkness.

 

———

 

It wasn't long until Keith was woken up by the sound of yelling. His eyes shot open, frantically looking around to see Shiro, a doctor, and a police officer. His heart dropped at the sight. 

 

_It was over._

 

“You aren't taking him. He's hurt!” Shiro yelled, pleaded even. His eyebrows were curled in worry, tear stains on his cheeks and Keith couldn't tell if they were from during their kiss or after. 

 

“He's a _murderer._ ” the police officer’s voice boomed, loud and deep. “He’ll be transferred to the prison’s hospital.”

 

Shiro took a deep breath before his eyes narrowed in a new determination Keith had never seen on him. 

 

_It was hot._

 

“You aren't separating me from my _husband._ ”

 

The police officer chuckled. “Don't worry, you'll see him soon enough.”

 

Keith couldn't take listening to them anymore. “Wait.” 

 

The officer was quick to pull out his gun and aim it at Keith as he stepped close to the bed cautiously. “I see you're awake, murderer.”

 

“He didn't know. Please, don't hurt him.” Keith weakly raised his hands. “ _Please._ ”

 

The officer were silent, and anxiety started to crawl in Keith's ribcage. “Don't hurt him,” he pleaded again. 

 

“So you admit, to everything?” the officer sounded shocked. 

 

“Only if you promise not to touch him.” Keith breathed weakly as he spoke. His whole body was in excruciating pain, but he refused to let that ride in his tone. 

 

He refused to show more weakness than he already was. 

 

“Deal,” the officer smirked, before raising his tone at Keith. “Now get up, on your feet.”

 

Keith took a deep breath before sitting up, the curl of his torso sending fire to the tender flesh of the wound on his side, and he bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. Eyes were training on him like a hawk as he quickly pulled the IV out of his arm. 

 

He could do it, easily. Take the guard down, the doctor too if he had to. Take Shiro and jump out the window. 

 

But was it worth it? 

 

Keith slowly swung his legs to the side of the bed and hissed in pain. He stood, using the IV stand for support as Shiro started to rush over to him. Eyes on the ground, Keith heard shifting and the rattling of a gun as it trained on its new target. 

 

Shiro!

 

“Stay there, Mr. Shirogane. Or I'll shoot!” the officer treated Shiro like a _criminal_ , and Keith couldn't take it. 

 

Adrenaline kicked in, Keith quickly rushed the officer, grabbing the barrel of his M4. He pulled the weapon towards himself as he kneed the officer in the stomach, pulling the gun out of his grip as he fell to the floor. Keith aimed the gun at the officer and shot him in the head without a second thought, before running to Shiro. 

 

“Run!” Keith yelled as he opened the window and jumped out. Thankfully, they were on the first floor, which meant no more added injuries or an injured Shiro. He ran despite the excruciating pain all over his body telling him to stop. 

 

“Wait—” Keith could hear the rushing of footsteps behind him as Shiro yelled. “You can't run, you're hurt!”

 

“We don't have time for that, Shiro!”

 

Keith heard the footsteps behind him quicken as he limped as fast as he could, _more_ than he really should. Before he knew it, he was being lifted into the air, the sound of the gun rattling carrying in the quick, cold wind that pushed against them as his head was forced to lay against a familiar chest. 

 

“You don't have to carry me, dammit.”

 

“We don't have time for that, Keith.” Shiro smirked, and Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro dug for his car keys in his pocket and pulled them out. He clicked the button to unlock the car and the vehicle beeped once, hopefully not giving away their location. He opened the back passengers’ side door of the car and gently laid Keith on the seat, closing it once he was settled. 

 

Keith closed his eyes weakly, heard a car door open then slam shut, a jingle of keys, then the rev of the car's engine. 

 

———

 

Columns of light ran through the car as they drove past street lights, the road only lit by them and the moon light. The car lights stayed off, drawing as little attention as possible. No music either, just the eerie silence for them to ponder on where things went wrong. 

 

Shiro glanced up at the mirror mounted to the top of the windshield to see Keith sitting up in the back seat, gritting his teeth in pain with a small grunt. The air in the car was chilled; the heater was off to eek out every bit of fuel economy Shiro could muster. Gas would be sparse for them on the journey. They had to be careful when deciding where to fuel up.

 

They were running from the law, after all. 

 

“Take us to the bunker, they won't find us there,” Keith sighed, hand curled around the wound on his torso. That one seemed to hurt the worse, the one Keith has paid the most attention to. 

 

“You need to lay back down.” when Keith didn't move, Shiro sighed. “Please, you're hurt.”

 

“Why did you do that?”

 

“What—Keith, you know it was the only way you'd survive.”

 

“I _told_ you.”

 

“Yeah, you did. But I love you too fucking much for you to die. I had to try.” Shiro kept his eyes on the road as he spoke, trying hard not to raise his voice. 

 

He was scared, knew he fucked up, wasn't sure if they would get out of this. 

 

But if he had listened to his husband, he would be a widow by now. And he didn't want that. 

 

So that was worth it, worth _all_ of this. 

 

Shiro chewed the inside of his lip before sighing. “I love you.”

 

Keith took a moment to speak, and it made Shiro's heart drop. “I love you too. That's why…” Keith sighed. 

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why I didn't want to get you involved.”

 

Shiro managed a sad smile. “It's okay.”

 

“No, it isn't.”

 

“ _Baby,_ ” Shiro sighed. 

 

Keith went silent at that and Shiro looked in the mirror again to see him lying back down without another word. He chewed the inside of his lip as he pushed on the gas pedal a little more, speeding to their bunker. 

 

It wasn't long before Shiro heard the almost silent snoring coming from the back seat, and he couldn't help but to smile. 

 

_Relax, baby. We'll be okay._

 

———

 

When Keith woke up again, he was in a large bed, blankets covering him and a warm set of arms wrapped loosely around his hips; far away from any wounds. Keith hummed tiredly as he let his head sink into the soft pillow, shoulders falling and muscles relaxing. He nuzzled closer to who he assumed was Shiro as he closed his eyes. He let the day run through his mind as he tried to process it all. 

 

Would they be okay? They'd have to move and soon. 

 

 There would be warrants for their arrest. They’d have to be very careful.

 

They'd need new identities. 

 

“Keith… Are you awake?” Shiro's breath tickled the back of his neck as his voice stopped Keith's mind from racing into a panic. 

 

“Yeah. Are we at the bunker?” Keith slowly turned onto his back, turning his head to face Shiro. It was a bad idea to lay on the opposite side, the wound there was still fresh and excruciating to the touch. 

 

He looked tired, worry swimming in his eyes. The bags under his eyes were already dark and stubble started to form on his face from not shaving in almost two days. Keith loved the stubble, always asked for Shiro to keep it. 

 

But Shiro hated it. 

 

Keith's hand slowly found Shiro's cheek and his thumb rubbed the bone, short stubble scratching at his skin in the best way. 

 

_Oh, what he'd do to rub his cheek on that stubble._

 

And that's what he did. He wrapped his arms around Shiro's shoulders and tugged him forward despite the pain by his left collar bone, tucking his face into the crook of his husband's neck. He hummed as the stubble scratched against his cheek, and Shiro nodded his head purely for Keith's enjoyment with a small chuckle. 

 

“You really like my stubble, huh?”

 

“Always have, that hasn't changed.” Keith's voice was muffled by Shiro's bare skin, breath tickling the larger man as a chuckle tumbled past his lips. 

 

Keith could feel Shiro's skin tug into a smile. “I love you, Starlight.”

 

“I love you too, Sunshine.” Keith pulled his head away with a small smile, thumb rubbing Shiro's jaw bone before kissing him softly. It was passionate, warm, full of love. 

 

Keith was safe. He wasn't going anywhere. 

 

_We saved each other._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new years everyone, make 2019 your year! I believe in you(:


End file.
